time has brought your heart to me
by loved in shades of wrong
Summary: AU He's tired. He's alone. He's tired of being alone. So if she wants him to change; to be better, he'll do it. Because by now, he's not daft enough to let go of the only person who's ever made him feel like the human side of him still exists.
1. i'll love you for a thousand more

Author's Note: I want to thank Cassie (_are you the same guest I gave a shout-out to?__)_ here for your review on 'i'll be the queen, you'll be my king'! Thank you so much for your very kind words. People like you feed my muse candy and the only way to tame it is to play around with it :)

This is a two-part story. I haven't finished the second part yet because I have an exam tomorrow and on Monday (wish me luck!), so it might be posted Wednesday/Thursday at the earliest or Friday/Saturday at the latest.

**one: i'll love you for a thousand more**

"Klaus..."

His whole body is heaving with every breath he drags into his lungs, his mouth is bathed in blood with some chunks of skin he'd ripped off, and he cranes his neck around and looks at her. He feels the veins around his eyes slowly pulse back in, and averts his gaze at the sight of the disappointed crease in her brow, her scared wide eyes.

Caroline is strong. Fearless. He hates that it's come to the point that he's scared her. _Hates it_. So he blurs out of the alleyway without another look in her direction.

* * *

"I want you to teach me."

"What?" She looks up from her book, and she has to crane her head back against the arm of the couch as he towers over her.

"Teach me to be... better. Good enough to be with you."

She sits up, and he manoeuvres over to the front and kneels in front of her. "I don't..."

"Don't make me beg." He's already halfway there anyway, and he'll do it, he's just hoping it won't come to that.

"Klaus," she laughs incredulously.

"I know I can treat you right; the way you deserve to be treated. But you don't trust me enough. That's it, isn't it. That's why you're afraid to love me. My temper."

* * *

He overhears a feeble vampire (how old is he anyway? A thousand? He scoffs.) tell his buddies to find Caroline and trap her in the Lockwood cellar. One of his minions asks what he'll do to her. _"What_ won't _I do to her? Klaus would be begging me to release his_ love_."_ Sheer rage bubbles inside him, his arms so tense they vibrate. He tries to remember what Caroline had told him about the breathing technique. _"Maybe squirt some vervain, shoot some wooden bullets - and hey, if she survives the night, there's a pretty little ring that she doesn't need, and tomorrow's supposed to be a nice-"_. The next thing he knows, he's blurring over to the smaller of the two sidekicks and clawing inside his chest for his heart. _He's saving the abhorrent chav for last where he can torture him nice and slow._

He doesn't remember anything after that.

"Klaus," she shouts, utterly horrified.

He jolts backwards and his vision clears enough to see an arm impaled on one of the small streetlamps that decorates the road leading to Mystic Falls. He turns slowly, but trips on a foot. He believes it's the left, but he doesn't have enough time to examine it properly before Caroline's right in front of him, pushing against his chest.

"_What did you do_!?"

He looks blankly beyond her and sees limbs scattered along the road.

* * *

She roughly rubs at his cheek with the rag before shoving it back into her kitchen sink to rinse off the blood. He observes the tight expression pulled across her face; her frown taut, eyes hard and lips thinned. She wrings the rag when most of it is washed out before slapping it back onto his face.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. She stops kneading his temple and stares at his scruffy chin.

"Sorry," she repeats wryly. "I can't _believe_ you." She throws the rag in the sink and the dirty water splashes over his shirt. "You said you wanted to change." She spins away and starts pacing, flinging her hands in the air and balling them into fists before throwing them back down to her side as she stomps her foot to turn and marches back to him. "You were doing so well that I thought that you _did_ change, and I start thinking, 'Huh, you know what? Maybe he isn't such a bad guy after all.' But then you turn around and you- and you do that. You're such a- such a-"

He grabs her wrists when she launches them up again. "Monster?" he growls.

"_Jackass_!"

He's so surprised by the comment that his grip goes slack, but she doesn't jerk her hands away, so when he processes it all, he steps closer, and their hands are pushed between them. "You can't fix something that's been broken for centuries. This is the only version of me and yet I'm trying... for you." He observes her eyes flicker down to his lips before darting back to his eyes. "Nevertheless, if someone - anyone - even so much as _tickles_ the idea of hurting you in anyway, it makes me want to _kill them_. I can't help it. I see blood and think of the pleasure of wrapping my hands around their neck and..."

He takes a deep breath, tightening his hold on her again when he feels her slowly push away.

"My temper gets the best of me when it involves you. I've been good all these weeks until these swines arrive to hunt me down. They wanted to draw me out, so they went to find my weakness. They were looking for you. Destruction is the only way for me to know for certain that they will never lay a finger on you. I love you too much to let you be harmed." He watches with interest as her eyes glaze over, and his thought process veers for a moment before he grabs a hold of himself and proceeds, "However, I'm too selfish to let you go off and be happy with someone else. If that makes me a jackass, fine."

He stares imploringly at her (to do what - he's got a whole list) as she surveys him, a frown on her face. (He tries to think of a time there _wasn't_ some degree of a frown darkening her features when around him.) (It doesn't count when the smiles weren't directed at him.)

(He can't remember one.)

"You're not broken," she finally whispers. "And you're not a jackass. Maybe you're right, though. Maybe you can't be changed." He looks away. "But we can certainly try," she says strongly.

Her wrists twist in his hands until she's gripping his fingers. His eyes skip back to hers. She isn't smiling, though neither is she frowning. The hard edges around her eyes are smoothened out and he can pick out little tiny flickers of green in the swirl of intense blue. It's fascinatingly stunning. He doesn't know what it means; he's never seen it before, and he really wants to see this expression again.

"I mean, what time is there to waste? With your perseverance and my amazing coaching, you can become a better person."

"For you?" He wonders when he started caring so much what she thought of him. Then he realises that he doesn't care when, or where, or why; he just wants her.

"For _you_. All of this doesn't mean anything if you're not doing it for yourself as well."

He supposes that makes sense. Then again, she could tell him the sky was green and he'd go along with it (all the while poking fun at her). "Okay."

"Okay." She nods definitively, a triumphant glint in her eyes.

"You're enjoying this," he realises.

She smiles gleefully. He knows this is the moment his pulse races. (You know, if he had a pulse.) The atmosphere becomes lighter as her face shifts from resolute seriousness to elated playfulness. He absorbs it right up. "Bossing around the uncontrollable and difficult Original Hybrid? It's like all my Christmases and birthdays have joined together for this wonderful present."

"Go ahead, laugh all you want, but in the end I'll be victorious."

She tilts her head to the side and quirks an eyebrow.

He smiles, and when she grins curiously back at him, he feels it widening. Twice in one night; it's a good day. He's one step closer to getting the girl. He presses a kiss to her forehead, and feels her lean against his lips, their hands still pressed against them; her hands have yet to let go of his. He closes his eyes for a moment before she pushes back and resumes cleaning him off.

* * *

(I'm kind of worried that Klaus may seem too OOC :/ Tell me what you think?)


	2. i've loved you for a thousand years

Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and to the ones who reviewed. Special thanks to nolechic512 for your helpful review! Feedback is encouraging and really does help me improve as a writer. (I see all these visitors but not many reviews and it's disheartening because I have social anxiety and I can't help but assume that you all hate me/my writing.)

Also, keep in mind that this is a different 'verse, and considering the previous chapter, he's as much in-character as possible.

**two: i've loved you for a thousand years**

It's been decades since that night. It was the last time he had killed. (He hadn't killed once since then. Not even a measly bug or an animal. She's completely emphatic about the whole killing thing. Sure, sometimes he has urges, especially when he catches a monkey mocking him at Central Park Zoo, or when this infuriating fly incessantly buzzed around his ear during one summer in Australia. But those urges go away when she puts a hand on his and reminds him to just _breathe_. The breathing doesn't really help; it's her touch and her voice that calms him down. But he doesn't tell her because she's so proud of her methods he doesn't have the heart to crush her spirits.) It's been decades since they left Mystic Falls, after her mother had died and she had no one left holding her to that small town.

He leans forward in his seat and holds her limp hand. He's seen her like this two times now, and it's two times too many. The dim lights in her room is enough to highlight her unusually pale features, and as she sleeps the droop at the corner of her lips look unnatural and disturbs him greatly. They've been so happy all these years it's almost alien to see this expression on her face. It feels like rereading a book that had saddened him. Reliving the pages is more detrimental than the first exposure because time dulls the words and they become underestimated, but experiencing the tale again shocks him into the truth.

During the first few centuries, they had never stayed in one city for too long because their friends and co-workers would become suspicious when they'd realise that they haven't aged. He wouldn't say it's been difficult; more so irritating. They move to a new city, make some friends, who proceed to constantly bug them about how they "can't believe you two are _just_ friends. I mean, it's _so _obvious you two love each other! _Just kiss and get on with it already_." It's the only thing he despises about the whole process. But it's all worth it when he gets to see her face every time they arrive in a new city. The opportunity, however, to encounter those curious darting blue eyes and lips that spread in an enraptured grin spreads wider as they've been staying longer each place more recently. As a result, they have been more careful in their interactions with humans.

She's been the one constant in his life; his best friend for _hundreds_ of years now. He's been in love with her longer.

But she had nearly died today. Some maniacal vampire-obsessed human had gotten wind of who she is and attacked her when he had been at an art gallery. He hates that Stefan had been the one there to save her. If he had came home earlier he would have been able to prevent the attack. If he had skipped it - _just once_ - he'd have been able to protect her himself.

He grips her hand harder.

It's been decades since he had last killed. It's been a thousand years of being the cool, calm and collected (most of the time, at least) Hybrid he's content to be - gone in one instant. After he had hunted the weasel down, he had snapped his neck without a thought.

When she wakes up, she'll be furious at him. He doesn't care - not entirely - because at least she's alive.

Her hand twitches in his before she's whimpering. He's out of the chair not a second after, bracing himself against the head of the bed with one hand while the other cups hers against his chest.

"You're crushing my hand," she croaks.

He immediately drops it. Taking a breath, he carefully sits at the edge and scans her tired eyes before turning to her bedside table for a blood bag. She sits up on her elbow and eagerly drains it as he looks down and gently runs a knuckle along the back of her palm.

"I'm tired," she whispers, nudging him back.

"Take a nap. I'll wake you up in a few hours for more blood." He leans down and holds a kiss against her forehead. Tightening his jaw, he slowly pulls away and brushes hair behind her ears. He knows he's stalling, but he still allows his fingers to linger a little longer against her cheek before walking through the adjacent wall that slides open at the motion.

He's throwing the empty bag into the hole that opens up after he announces the code for disposal when the device mounted against the wall beeps before a bright light shoots out and Stefan materialises on the other side of the room. "How's she doing?"

"Fine. Just tired." He pauses for a beat. "Did you take care of it?"

"Yeah." Stefan nods. "Don't worry; it's, uh, all done."

"Good." He watches as the vampire casual leans against the kitchen counter with a complacent expression. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head down, challenging him.

"A thousand years ago, you never would've thought twice after killing that man. Look at you now."

"It's possible, even to the most horrid of people, for a change of disposition. Of course, I needn't tell you that."

The smile drops from his face at the insinuation to his Ripper days. _Ah, good times._

"What's your point, Stefan," he says impatiently.

"My _point_," he repeats emphatically. "Is Caroline. She's a good influence on you."

He disguises the bristled jolt that rattles up his spine by clasping his hands behind his back. "Yes, well... I'll have no problem snapping your neck." He doesn't know if he hates that they are both aware he wouldn't follow through, but he does know that he's pleased Stefan doesn't push the matter.

"Don't forget, I see you every year - I notice all the little interactions between you two. It's almost... funny how you resemble a puppy doing tricks for love and affection."

Caroline had told him once that good friends tease each other at the expense of their friend. So instead of encouraging him with a reaction, he only glowers at the counter between them and appeases himself with the image of a cleaning android smacking that taunting expression off his face with a broom. (He doesn't think it's enjoyable when he's on the end of the jibbing. He'd much prefer doing all the taunting himself.)

"What are you boys up to?"

Spinning around, he's surprised to see her resting tiredly against the wall, hand on her hip. "What are you doing up?"

"You two aren't exactly quiet."

Stefan apologises with a slight wince. "Hey, I'm glad you're okay," he says as he steps out behind the counter with his arms out.

She shuffles her sock-covered feet against the floorboards across the spacious suite to hug Stefan. "Me too."

He feels a mystifying sense of satisfaction when she slides around to stand by his side.

"Are you hungry?" The fridge is open before she attempts to answer, and he launches a bag in her direction.

She pulls a face at him before wholeheartedly taking a mouthful as she takes a seat on the stool.

"I'm gonna head off now." Stefan picks up the coat he had left earlier today.

Covering her mouth as she swallows, she stands and protests lightly, "You just came back."

"I only really came back to make sure that you're completely okay." He gives her what seems to be a meaningful look, if her ducking her head in reply is anything to go by, before he nods at him in farewell. "I'll see you guys later." His final words fade as he does, disintegrating into the portal.

"We need to talk." She places herself back on the stool and looks earnestly up at him.

"Caroline, I wasn't going to just stand there and do nothing."

She frowns before shaking her head. "No. Not about that." He takes a seat next to her. "Although we are going to talk about that later." She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth before expelling a breath. "I need to tell you something."

His head tilts in a motion for her to go on.

"I, um." A short burst of a laugh comes out before her nose scrunches. He knows she's nervous, because she's avoiding his eyes.

"What is it? You can tell me."

"Klaus, I love you."

"I love you too," he replies automatically. It sometimes hurts that he means it more than she does. He's learned to keep it to a dull aching most of the time, but every once in a while, that dull ache pulses in his chest and repeatedly kicks within his heart until the organ is just begging to be crushed.

"No." She shuts her eyes before blindly reaching for his hand. When they open, they're bright and a rich shade of blue. "I _love_ you."

She's taught him a lot over the years. Her infectious emotions have rubbed off on him, and the concept of _feelings_ and human emotions from the ghost of his pre-vampire life has started to resurface. It's an oxymoron of a strangely familiar feeling, having his humanity switched back on; like the feel of Aramaic on his lips after its extinction. So he swallows and absorbs the way she's looking at him; pale lips and wide eyes that both slant down softly around the corners, her eyebrows creased fervently.

He doesn't know what he feels, because everything all comes rushing at him all together, and he's not reacquainted with them enough to label and understand each one.

So he chooses the easiest and natural reaction. His feet slam down on the floor as he stands up swiftly, the stool crashing loudly and echoing throughout the flat as he towers over her. "Don't poke fun. Not on this."

She rears back and her expression hardens. "Poke fun? Why would I do that?"

"This isn't some game where you play with my mind and leave me because I will snap your neck faster than you can say 'kidding.'"

She forcefully pushes her stool away as she takes a stand, but he doesn't back down. He never backs down. Their faces are so close he can feel her puffs of breath against his chin as she fumes. "We've travelled the world for a thousand years now. If you think I have some horrible intention of leading you on all this time, you don't know me at all, Niklaus."

They're glaring at each other, and he can feel the heat radiating off him in waves as he tries so hard not to scream at her, choosing to grind his teeth instead.

He feels his eye twitch when her face falls and she steps back. "You're scared," she murmurs.

He clenches his jaw harder. He feels like he's burning through his clothes.

"You're confused about why I love you; _how_ I love you. And you're scared because you don't like not knowing; being in control." He flinches when she grabs his shoulders. "When you're confused and scared, your natural reaction is anger." The wrinkles over her brows grows deeper. "_Look at me_," she says forcefully, shaking his shoulders. His eyes drag to her eyes but she's blurry. He blinks the stinging away and a drop threatens to fall when he tries to look away again. "I've loved you for the last five hundred years," she admits. "Ever since that night in Rome."

"Rome." He curses himself when it comes out unstable before he's transported to back then, and his breathing slows and his skin doesn't feel as searingly hot. He had compelled the Basilica San Clemente night guards because she had wanted to stay for just a little longer to stare up at the painting on the ceiling.

"It kind of hit me while you were trying to teach me to make pizza. Remember? It was the night before Basilica."

He nods. She slides her hands down his chest like she had that night, after a rather messy flour fight. It had been one of those days when he had wished she'd feel more than platonic toward him, and it had been particularly difficult to resist kissing her then with bright eyes and flour in her hair and on her face, but he had managed. Barely.

"I noticed how domesticated it was, and I realised that I want that. But more than that, I want that with you." The corner of her eyes crinkle as she smiles. "I love how you get so passionate about the culture of whatever city we're in. I love that you're addicted to that _awful_ reality show. I love that you've tried so hard to be better." His gaze drifts to her mouth, transfixed with how they move and form that one word. "When I compare you from the Klaus back in Mystic Falls to _this_ Klaus, there are so many different things between the two. I'd choose this you over and over because I know how hard you worked to improve yourself. You haven't changed, though; you're still you, but the best version."

She smiles wider up at him, raising her eyebrows and bouncing once on her toes like she always does when she presents an honest compliment. He can't help but smile back, and feels the weight of his heart defy gravity as it drifts up his oesophagus.

"After you killed that man..." she drifts off and breaks eye contact for the first time.

His heart drops down so fast it feels as if it gravity had fought back and shoved it down, but he pulls her close, cupping her cheek until she's looking at him again. He opens his mouth, but he can't talk; can't breathe. So he stares imploringly at her.

"You didn't run away. You tipped the cops and thought about the other people who would be affected by this." He must be looking at her strangely because she sheepishly shrugs. "I was conscious and overheard you talking to Stefan."

He grips the hand resting over his heart when he feels her start to pull away.

"I... I thought you've moved on. I was scared that if I'd told you and you didn't feel the same, that we wouldn't be friends anymore because I wouldn't be able to see you knowing that I could never be with you the way I wanted."

"You would be foolish to think that I could ever love anyone else after you." His voice is hoarse, and he closes his eyes. It's difficult to believe that after so long this is finally happening. He swallows and moves his other hand to cup the other side of her face. "You are one of a kind, Caroline, and I've loved you for a thousand years." His eyes flickers open, and she's biting her lip. "Even if you didn't feel the same way, I'll love you for thousands more."

He pulls her bottom lip from between her teeth with his thumb before he leans forward, watching her eyes flutter close, and his own droops to her mouth. She makes a soft whiny noise from the back of her throat and brushes her nose against his before he finally captures her lips.

Her arms encircle his waist, and he pulls her closer, drowning himself in the kiss, her scent, her touch. He slides one hand to the back of her head, wanting more, and tangles his fingers through her silky hair as she grips his shirt. He feels her tongue slip between his lips and growls.

"Klaus," she mumbles.

He sucks one more time on her top lip before he reluctantly pulls back, breathing heavily. "Say it."

"I love you," she breathes.

He can feel his whole face stretch to accommodate the wide smile, and she laughs at him. He doesn't mind. She nudges her nose against his again and he allows himself a softer kiss, their lips clicking thickly. "I love you too," he murmurs, feeling her grin against his mouth before she slides her hands up his back to hook onto his shoulders and buries her face in the crevasse between his neck and shoulder. His arm slithers around the back of her neck and the thumb that's still tangled between her curls slide back and forth smoothly along her scalp. He rests his cheek against the side of her head and closes his eyes. He breathes deeply and allows a small smile to grace his face. She kisses the side of his neck and he holds her against him protectively.


End file.
